


You're Not Alone

by Chikasumi_Kurotsuki



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Hurt/comfort kind of, M/M, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Suicide Attempt, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chikasumi_Kurotsuki/pseuds/Chikasumi_Kurotsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has always fought a battle with depression and when it come back with a vengeance will Steve be able to save him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt from Pinterest, the link is included. The general idea from the pin is all from its original artist, not me. Just throwing that out there. Also the characters are obviously all Marvel and their genius. I’m just taking two amazing things and combining them (PS, not completely Iron Man 3 compliant)  
> http://www.pinterest.com/pin/172262754472330592/
> 
> Also not edited at this point in time. I may come back and add more but for now just assume it's a done deal.

Tony had always had an on again off again relationship with depression. The off again usually being when the depression had subsided enough for Tony to actually be happy and enjoy life for the most part, because depression wasn’t one of those things that ever truly went away. Yes, it would disappear to where it was just a tiny voice in the back of his head at times, but never completely gone. 

Things had gotten tough when Pepper had left him after the battle in New York with the Chitauri but before the whole Mandarin debacle. It had left him shattered, but then had stepped in Captain Steve Roger wonderful Steve, who probably had just as many problems as Tony but somehow managed to still make things work. Tony didn’t know when they had gone from hating each other to tolerating each other to friends to more than Tony had ever hoped for, even when he’d been a kid and infatuated with Captain America. He just remembered the verbal teasing and flirty looks and then Steve suddenly pushing Tony against the wall of his workshop and kissing him until they were both breathless. 

After that things had been good. Tony’s depression seemed to have taken a permanent vacation, or at least things seemed on the up and up and continually less likely to just give out.

He’d been wrong. 

The Avengers had just gotten done with ridding the world of the newest bad guys who wanted to take over Earth and somehow when Tony had finished getting out of his suit and into an old pair of jeans and a black tank top so he could continue tinkering on his latest project he had found Steve waiting by the doors. Which was normal in most cases, what wasn’t normal was the scowl on the tall blond soldier’s face and the arms crossed over his broad chest. 

Tony had paused only a second before continuing on to his abandoned work station. 

“What the hell was that?” Steve demanded his voice louder than normal and slightly stiff.

“That was me doing what made the most logic, obviously.” Tony replied. 

After that it turned into a full-fledged fight until Tony had made some smart comment about it being his life and he could do what he saw fit with it and Steve had through a sharp comment right back and then turned and left. 

All of that had been a good two weeks ago. Steve had been called out on a mission two days after the fight and hadn’t even said goodbye before leaving. Logically, Tony knew it was because he had been holed up in his workshop and that Steve had been called to the Helicarrier for something trivial before being sent out immediately on said mission. Steve hadn’t been able to say goodbye even if he’d wanted to, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t rub Tony the wrong way. 

At first Tony had been fine, for lack of a better word, but then the depression raised its ugly head and everything after that just seemed to just be spiraling out of control. The nightmares were back, and worse than ever, leaving Tony gasping for breath and sweating profusely every time he woke up. So instead he stayed in his workshop binging on coffee too keep him awake for at least fifty hours at a time. And when that started to fail a little, Tony turned to alcohol to chase the nightmares away. Deep down, Tony knew that alcohol would just make the depression worse, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was an escape and if furthering the early demise of his liver to the point of him blacking out then so be it. 

Then, a few days ago, the really dark feelings came back for a vengeance for the first time in a good couple years. Tony hadn’t hit this rock bottom in a very long time, at least compared to the little spiffs that popped up now and again telling him he wasn’t good enough. But this time, it was so much worse. And the part that made it so unbearable was the fact that Steve wasn’t there to help keep him together. Steve had left just like everyone else had in his life. 

All of that is how Tony ended up where he was right that minute, in his workshop listening to ACDC at full volume and finishing a bottle of whisky. He had spread it out enough that he hadn’t blacked out yet but enough to get close to it, even with his high alcohol tolerance. Tony didn’t want to go out due to alcohol poising. He had always wanted to go out with a bang, but with there being no battles or anything else happening he settled for the next best thing. 

Standing up, the room spun a little, but not enough to keep him from moving. Tony left the workshop and made his way to the kitchen, where another bottle of whisky was waiting. Snatching that up in the free hand that didn’t hold the well-used glass, Tony made his way to the study and sat down heavily in the chair. With a deep breath, he opened the top drawer and pulled out the simple black hand gun that he had stashed there so many years ago. There had been a couple times when Tony had come close to using the gun, but had never really sunk that low, until now. He placed it on the desk in front of him and just stared at it for a while as he continued to drink the bottle of whisky. 

The gun only contained one bullet, but that’s all it needed. On shot and it was done. 

Tony didn’t get very far into the second bottle before thing started to weigh down on him. He was a failure and he knew that. Not once had his father ever been proud of him. Rhodey and Pepper were the only friends he really had. Yes, there were the other members of the Avengers team, but he doubted they would miss him too much if he were to just stop existing. Fury would definitely be relieved. Tony just wasn’t good at keeping people around. He didn’t know how to do relationships. Which was now so painfully obvious since Steve had done the one thing he had always promised he wouldn’t do: leave. 

Pepper had always tried to cheer him up by telling him that he made a difference in the world, that he helped others. But in all honesty, nothing he could ever do would make up for all the wrongs he had done in his past. Nothing would ever make his life worth more than a very large percentage of people on the planet. Sure, some people would miss him for a little while, the tabloids would have to find a new person to depend on new juicy news topics from, but in the long hall everyone would be better off without Tony Stark in the picture. 

Tony filled the glass up one more time, grabbed the gun, and stood up from the desk. He was on his way through the hall to the balcony that overlooked the city. Jarvis had access to his ‘note’ that would be allowed into the right hands given Tony were to die in a most definite self-inflicted manner. 

He barely had made it halfway down the hall; Tony heard his name behind him on a breathy exhale, barely audible. Before he knew it he was pushed up against the wall with his right arm pinned to the wall. 

“Tony.” 

Steve’s voice was soft, sad even. He was using his right arm to keep Tony pinned to the wall. Tony was deftly aware of the sound of the gun hitting the floor as it slipped from his on right hand. The shot of whisky that had been in his left hand had shattered on the floor when Steve had pressed Tony up against the wall. Tony didn’t have the heart to look at Steve, so he kept his head down, looking away. 

Tony knew he looked like a wreck. He couldn’t remember the last time he had showered, had food, or slept, let along change his clothes. Tony was waiting for Steve to step away from him, most likely with a look of disgust. But he didn’t. Suddenly Steve’s arm that had been pinning Tony to the wall shifted so that Steve was cupping the back of Tony’s head in his hand and pulling Tony closer to his body. Steve’s forehead was resting on Tony’s and suddenly Tony couldn’t keep the all the emotions back and tears sprung from his eyes. 

“No many how many times,” Steve said, voice still soft and full of nothing but love, causing all of Tony’s remaining strength to leave his body. “I’ll tell you, you are not alone.”


End file.
